WHILE waiting in the entrance at Piccadilly Station, Manchester, the other day, I had chance to look around at the people.

I thought to myself what a scruffy, untidy lot we as a nation are becoming.

There was not a suit or smartly dressed person in sight — rather, everyone looked as though they had slept rough, or were refugees and had just spent days on the road.

Why has it suddenly become ‘hip’ to dress like you have just picked out at least three unrelated pieces of clothing and put them on haphazardly?

Heaven knows what visitors from overseas think of us.

Then I was off to my hotel, which was staffed completely by workers from overseas — all smartly dressed, by the way, but not, as yet, speaking fluent English.

And it was the same in all the shops — why?

Surely if, as we are constantly being told, there are still a few million unemployed here at home, why are we allowing the mainly unskilled jobs that are available, to go to people from overseas?

It just doesn’t make sense — and how much is it costing us?

I also feel that it is disenfranchising a generation of young people who, once on the unemployment road, have the utmost difficulty getting off it.

We have for decades and still are paying people to do nothing.

It’s madness when the country is in such a parlous state.

Surely there are streets to sweep, schools to clean, many jobs that would make our towns and cities cleaner and better places and it would also get them into a working way of life.

Ok, ok, it was just a thought!